


The Candle Feeds the Flame

by ShowMeAHero



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Humor, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-24 16:57:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16644137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: Foggy loves when Matt’s in court. It’s a pretty dangerous turn-on, because they’re both lawyers.In the same firm.That they started.Together.





	The Candle Feeds the Flame

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from ["You Make My Dreams"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EErSKhC0CZs) by Hall & Oates.

Foggy loves when Matt’s in court. It’s a pretty dangerous turn-on, because they’re both lawyers. In the same firm. That they started. Together. So, Foggy pretty much constantly sees Matt in court. Matt always tells Foggy that Foggy is better at the opening statements and closing arguments, but the jury’s been watching Matt with a lot of sympathy, so they decided Matt would give it. At the time, Foggy didn’t realize what a terrible idea this would end up being.

Now, though.

Now, Foggy’s watching Matt give his summation, and he looks hot as _hell._ They haven’t so much as made out in two weeks preparing for this day, and it’s weighing on Foggy as he keeps his back straight and his eyes on Matt. He can feel his heart speed up, and Matt’s head ticks to the side as he listens in, like the traitor he is. He tips his face in Foggy’s direction, _just_ so Foggy can see his smirk, before he continues with his summation.

Foggy sighs. Their client, Gayle, glances at him with a frown, but she doesn’t say anything. She’s suing the pharmaceutical company that let her husband die without his insulin. She had basically walked into their office and Matt was already drawing up her paperwork. Foggy’s glad they took the case, but it’s taken a _lot_ out of them. It’s a huge case, though. If they win, their names are going to be _everywhere._ For better or for worse, but still.

Matt finishes his summation, and Foggy watches two people in the jury almost clap before they remember where they are. Matt comes back and sits on Foggy’s other side, leaning back and snapping his cane shut.

“You doing okay, counselor?” Matt asks softly. His voice is pitched low enough that only Foggy can hear it, a rumble of words in his ear. It settles heavy inside his chest; he has to take a deep breath to displace the weight.

“Fuck you,” Foggy whispers back. Matt smiles, tipping his head in the opposite direction, away from Foggy. Foggy forces himself to stare straight ahead.

They win the case. Gayle hugs them both, kisses them on their cheeks, promises to bring them casseroles the next day while they go over what winning this case actually means for her. Foggy walks her to her taxi while Matt talks with a reporter, and she hugs him again three times before she finally gets in and drives away.

By the time Foggy gets back into the courthouse, Matt’s wrapping up with the journalists. His head turns in Foggy’s direction _way_ before he should know that Foggy’s there. He waits until Foggy touches his arm to smile at him, and it’s _so_ much. Matt’s fucking _gorgeous,_ with those stupid-pretty eyes and that beard he’s been growing in. Foggy squeezes his forearm.

“Ready to go, bud?” Foggy asks. Matt nods, head tipped towards Foggy. He pulls his cane out of his jacket and snaps it out, letting Foggy guide him away. He takes them down the hallway in the opposite direction of the front door, and Matt’s expression flickers as he realizes they’re not going the right way.

“Where are you taking me?” Matt asks, half-confused, half-amused. Foggy turns them around a familiar corner. “Guiding the poor, defenseless blind man in the wrong direction. How could you?”

“Like you’re anything _resembling_ poor and defenseless,” Foggy scoffs. Energy and lust are vibrating under his skin, making his hands shake a little. His heart’s pounding, not only with how Matt looks and the hot point of contact between them, but _also_ with what he wants to do to him. No, amendment: what he _knows_ he’s _going_ to do to him. “No, just— Hold on. You’ll be fine.”

“If you say so,” Matt says. Foggy finally gets him to their destination and leaves Matt at the closed door, checking around the corner to make sure there’s truly nobody in the hallway. When he gets back to Matt, Matt grins at him, all white teeth and crinkles around his eyes. He’s ridiculous. He’s a phenomenal lawyer. He’s _stupid_ hot. Foggy can’t stop himself from slamming into him, catching Matt’s face in his hands and kissing him as hard as he can. Matt makes a baffled, muffled sound; his cane clatters to the ground when his hands come up to Foggy’s face. He tangles his fingers in Foggy’s hair and moans.

 _“This_ was your plan?” Matt asks, breathless, when Foggy pulls away to catch his own breath. Foggy shakes his head. Matt’s fingers are still buried in his hair, so he knows he can feel it. “Then what—”

Matt stops when Foggy shoves him through the bathroom door. They’ve been here before; they fought here, once, and Matt grabbed him, yelled at him, and Foggy yelled back, and things were so much worse. Now, though, Matt’s grabbing him for a different reason, which is shoving Foggy up against the inside of the closed bathroom door. Foggy reaches behind himself, feeling along the door until he gets to the lock and manages to bolt the door shut.

“You have no idea what you looked like out there,” Foggy manages to tell him, when Matt drops his head to nip at Foggy’s throat. Foggy exhales raggedly.

“You’re right,” Matt tells him. “I have _no idea_ what I look like.”

“I absolutely hate you,” Foggy says. He’s already yanking Matt’s jacket backwards and off, throwing it to the floor. Matt’s hand fumbles at his face, holding him in place to kiss him, while Foggy yanks Matt’s shirt out of his trousers and starts unbuttoning it. He forgets about the tie, then has to pull away from Matt to unknot it. He ends up just loosening it and using it to tug Matt in, crashing their mouths together again.

“That’s too bad,” Matt says, chest heaving, “because I _love_ you.”

“You’re all talk, Murdock,” Foggy tells him. Matt pulls back, brow furrowing as he presumably listens to all of Foggy’s major organs as they start failing because of him. He smiles, pulling his glasses off and dropping them into the pile of his jacket on the floor. His eyes are so beautiful. Foggy feels absolutely speechless looking into them, for a second.

“Guess I better get some action,” Matt says. Foggy kisses him again, bites at his lower lip, and Matt groans.

“That’s what you get for the stupid joke,” Foggy tells him, and Matt laughs. Foggy tugs Matt’s tie off over his head, then unbuttons his cuffs so he can tug his button-down shirt off. They join the jacket on the ground, and then Foggy spins Matt around, shoving him into the door and kissing him as hard as he can manage without breaking any teeth. Matt’s tongue slips into his mouth, and they kiss like that for a long moment before Foggy hits the ground, on his knees in front of Matt. Matt’s head drops back against the door, breathing hard and fast.

 _“Fuck,_ Foggy,” Matt groans. Foggy’s already unbuckling his belt, unzipping his pants, tugging them and his underwear down so he can lick up Matt’s dick. Matt exhales, all the breath punching out of his lungs at once. His hands bury in Foggy’s hair and hold on, pulling at his head, and Foggy’s harder than he’s ever been just from the sharp points of pain along his scalp. He grabs Matt’s hip in one hand, wraps the other hand around the base of his dick, and Matt seems to just barely stop himself from shoving himself down Foggy’s throat.

Foggy pulls back, takes his mouth off of Matt to say, “You can do whatever you want,” before he swallows him back down. Matt makes a choked sound, thrusts forward into Foggy’s throat. Foggy’s used to Matt, at this point; he knows what he wants, and what he likes, and he lets Matt fuck his face until he’s scratching his scalp with his nails and panting. Then, he pulls off, takes his hands off of Matt entirely.

“Oh, what the fuck— _Foggy,”_ he says, emphatically, almost angry with his frustration. Foggy stands up, trapping Matt against the door to kiss him again, forceful with his urgency. Matt responds in kind, grabbing Foggy by the wrists and switching their positions again, slamming Foggy into the door face-first. Foggy presses his face to the cold wood, catching his breath as Matt feels his way down his front to unbuckle his belt and unfasten his pants and yank them down. He doesn’t even bother undressing the rest of him, which is fucking _hot as hell._

“Is this okay?” Matt asks, head ducking into Foggy’s throat, voice almost breaking. Foggy nods against his cheek, and Matt withdraws. Foggy turns his head to watch him kneel and dig through the inside pockets of his jacket. He comes up with two packets of lube, and Foggy huffs a laugh.

“You just— You brought _lube_ to court?” Foggy asks. Matt rips both of the packets open at once with his teeth, spreading it over one hand so he can start fingering Foggy open. Foggy chokes on his next breath, head banging forwards.

“Yeah, I did,” Matt tells him, low in his ear. “Because you’re a competent— Actually, no, beyond competent. You’re the best lawyer I’ve ever seen.”

“Seen—”

“Shut up,” Matt says, and Foggy does. “You’re so passionate and it drives me crazy sometimes. I haven’t gotten to touch you in _weeks_ and I was planning on taking you out for drinks after the verdict today and fucking you in the first empty space we found.”

“Josie is gonna ban us from the bar,” Foggy breathes. Matt slips a second finger in. Foggy groans. He can feel Matt’s smile against his throat, can feel teeth when he bites him right above his collar. He reaches around with his free hand to hold onto Foggy’s tie, to keep him in place when he adds a third finger. Foggy’s begging for it, at that point, and Matt slips his hand out to slick himself before he lines up with Foggy’s entrance and shoves his way in. Foggy reaches back, gets one hand in Matt’s hair, holds on tight as Matt fucks him into the door. Foggy’s other hand is flat against the door, holding himself up against Matt’s hard, aggressive thrusts. He _loves_ it, loves _Matt._

“Yeah?” Matt asks, because Foggy said that out loud. “Tell me again.”

“I love you,” Foggy tells him. “Jesus Christ, Matt, I love you so much—”

“That’s blasphemy—”

“Oh, you’re gonna nitpick what is and isn’t a sin with your _cock in my ass—”_

“Foggy,” Matt says, laughing. He holds Foggy’s hip in one hand, pins his wrists up above his head with the other, and pins him there, fucking him into the wall. Foggy slips his hand down, tries to wrap his fingers around his own dick, but Matt smacks his hand away. Foggy groans, tugs on Matt’s hair. _“Jesus.”_

“You’re talking to _me_ about blasphemy,” Foggy says. Matt shifts angles, hits him harder, slams into his prostate, and Foggy’s breathless, speechless, eyes shut and breath coming in gasps as Matt keeps hitting the same spot. His heart’s _pounding,_ and he knows Matt can hear it, because he’s moving faster, thrusting harder, a hot line of contact along Foggy’s entire back, heating seeping through his clothes. He digs his forehead into the wood of the door.

“Matt, please,” Foggy gasps. Matt turns his face into Foggy’s throat again, bites a hard bruise into his neck, drawing blood and purple flesh to the surface. He slams in again, then he groans, low in his throat. Foggy feels him release inside of him, feels him slouching against him, chin catching on his shoulder as he uses Foggy to hold himself up. _“Matt.”_

“Hold on,” Matt murmurs, slipping out and turning Foggy around. He drops down to his knees like Foggy had before, slides his hand down Foggy’s chest, to his waist, down until he finds his dick. He takes hold of it, wraps his lips around it and _sucks,_ and Foggy’s immediately fucked.

“Matt, don’t—” Foggy says. Matt shakes his head, runs his hand up Foggy’s chest. He pulls his mouth off.

“It’s fine,” Matt says, breathless, before he drops his head back down again. His mouth is a hot, wet heat, and he shuts his eyes, takes Foggy’s hands and guides them to his hair, encouraging him to fuck his mouth. So, Foggy does, until he’s coming down Matt’s throat. Matt swallows everything, and Foggy’s head slams backwards as he catches his breath. When Matt pulls off, Foggy slides to the floor, leaning back against the door. Matt drops his head against Foggy’s chest, climbs half-into his lap.

“Jesus _fucking_ Christ, Murdock,” Foggy breathes. Matt huffs a laugh. “If you were as good at business as you are at this, we’d be the richest fucking lawyers in the city.”

“You’re insane.”

“I just have good business sense,” Foggy says, and Matt reaches up, cups the back of Foggy’s head in his hand, drags him down to kiss him. It’s a rough angle, Foggy’s neck bent strangely to reach him, but Matt kisses him so soft and slow and sweet that it’s worth it. “God, Matt, I love you. _So_ fucking much.”

“I love you, too,” Matt says. He’s silent for a beat. “Hey, we should get married.”

Foggy’s chest _seizes_ and his heart starts pounding all over again. “What?”

“We’re in a courthouse.”

“Matt, you need to wait a day after getting the license—”

“—unless you have a waiver from a judge,” Matt finishes. “We have to know a judge here today. You probably know every person in the city.”

Foggy thinks for a second. His brain is scrambled. “No, you’re right, you— Linda Martinez is here today.”

“Pull your pants back up,” Matt tells him, and Foggy laughs, chest aching. “I’m serious, let’s do this. Do you— Do you want to do this?”

Foggy pulls Matt up until he’s sitting, cups his face in his hands, and kisses him softly, so softly, so slowly. “I love you. I— We can do this. Today, right now, if that’s what you want. I would’ve figured you’d want a big church wedding.”

Matt pauses, considering. Foggy tugs his pants back up. “We can do that, too. I just— After everything, I don’t— I don’t want to not be married to you anymore.”

“That sentence was too confusing to understand thirty seconds after you fucked my head off,” Foggy says, and Matt laughs, face going red. “Okay. I’ll find Linda, you call Karen, and we’ll— get married. Today. And we’ll have a big church ceremony soon for you and a reception for my mom— God, my _mom,_ she’s going to _kill us—”_

“Focus,” Matt tells him, hauling himself to his feet and hurriedly starting to pull his clothes back on. He looks hopelessly like he had sex in a bathroom, but Foggy wouldn’t have him any other way. “Alright. Okay. Let’s do this.” His shirt’s untucked, his tie’s loose, his hair’s a mess, his face is all red. He pulls Foggy in and kisses him again. “I love you.”

“I love you, you lunatic,” Foggy replies, and Matt smiles at him, that lopsided, goofy grin, before he puts his glasses back on, hiding his eyes behind dark red glass. “Let’s make some impulsive decisions.”

“When have we done anything else?” Matt says, snapping out his cane as Foggy unlocks the door and guides him out. “Love you.”

“You said that.”

“It’s true,” Matt says. “Every day. More every day.” Matt stops to kiss him again. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Foggy says, and Matt laughs again. “Guess it’s not impulsive when you consider the fact that I’ve been in love with you since the second we met.”

“Guess so,” Matt agrees. He starts to leave, but Foggy catches his hand, pulls him back in for another kiss. “We’ve gotta— _Foggy—”_

“We’ve gotta _nothing,”_ Foggy says. He kisses Matt again, and Matt kisses _him,_ and Foggy’s so, _so_ lost for him, it’s ridiculous. It’s _ridiculous,_ but so is Matt, and so is he, so it’s— so good. _So_ good.

**Author's Note:**

> I also actually wrote some books! It was a long road but, I did it! Ta-da! If you want to read either of them, shoot me a message!
> 
> I have a blog now to request imagines - I just like to make people happy. Submit requests [here!](https://imagine-in-the-fandoms.tumblr.com/ask)
> 
> You can follow me on Twitter at [@nicolelianesolo](https://twitter.com/nicoIodeon) or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/).


End file.
